He motioned the others to stand back, and raising the heavy head upon his shoulder, bent close to catch the whisper of the parched lips.
At first no sound came, and then a hoarse word reached him.
The Prior stared amazed; then once more the laboured voice—
Hilarius needed no further word; in a moment the years were wiped away.
“Lad, lad, to find thee again, and in such sorry plight! But see, stay not thy shriving, for the time is short, and the Lord ever ready to pardon.”
The man strove in vain to speak. At last he said quite clearly: “I hunger,” and so saying died.
The Prior was greatly moved, and for a while he knelt in prayer, while the Brethren, amazed, waited his pleasure. Then he rose, and lo! before him lay the open glade where his schooling had begun, and he had seen a flower incarnate dance in the wind.
He bade them lift the dead, and lay him in the hollow of the glade under fallen branches until they could return and give him burial. Then, as they went on their way, he told the tale of his little maid; and when the telling was ended, the village they had come to succour was in sight, and lo! they saw it through a mist.
CHAPTER VIII “BEHOLD THE FIELDS ARE WHITE”
THE Prior’s heart was ready, and it seemed to him as he passed up the village and saw the huddled, helpless people, that his little maid led him by the hand.
Brother Simon, Brother Leo, and the novices turned aside to speak comfort and carry succour to the sick and fearful, and to bury the dead; for three unshriven souls had passed to judgment and mercy. Hilarius made straight for the ale-house.
As he crossed the green, the door opened and Dickon stumbled blindly down the steps. At sight of a monk he cried out, and suddenly sobered, dropped on his knees, while the topers and roysterers staring from the open doorway fell into silence.
Hilarius pushed back his cowl and stood bareheaded in the scorching sun of that windless day; it came to his mind that he was very weary.
“Hear, O my children, the Lord hath sent me to succour you, lest ye go down quick into the pit. Return, every one of you, for the arms of His love are still stretched wide upon the Rood, and the very hairs of your head are numbered. Repent ye, therefore, and confess each one of you his sins, that I may prepare him for the work of the Lord; and take comfort also, for they that are with us are mighty.”